When The Clock Strikes Twelve
by Shinigami Tayuu-Tsukuyo
Summary: When the clock strikes twelve, a new day begins. Let's face it; Lukas is strange. He barely shows any ideas, opinions, or even feelings. Little by little, he's becoming the shell of a person. Then he meets the stranger heir to the throne, his polar opposite. His worst nightmare? The clock strikes eleven, change is coming.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Lukas? Get your ass over here now!"

The pale boy was hesitant; he didn't want to work more. He was tired. Couldn't Amelia do her own work? Right now, he could barely stay upright, and his eyes almost fluttered to a close.

"Lukas? I'm not going to fucking ask again. Get your ass here now." There was a pause. Then she continued.

"Emil's asleep upstairs. He's so pitifully helpless right now...You don't want Mother to do anything to him, do you?" Amelia called, her voice melting into a cruel honey.

_No...Please, don't do anything to Emil._ _D-Don't...!_ The young boy tried to scream, but no sound came out. He couldn't let them hurt Emil. He had never let them do anything to his precious brother, and he certainly wouldn't now.

"LUKAS!" The said person snapped to attention.

"Y-Yes!" His voice was quiet.

"Stop hiding, and come out. You have five seconds before I call for Mother."

_Anything for Emil..._

"One."

_Why does it have to be like this? _

"Two."

_Father said Mother loved us._

"Three."

_Is this the love he meant?  
_

"Four."

Lukas stumbled out of his hiding spot, barely standing. Using one skinny hand, he grabbed onto the cupboard handle to support his frail body. It was getting stuffy behind the sugar sacks of the kitchen. Almost instantly, a tan hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him away from his sanctuary. Shivering from fear and pain, the little boy turned to look his sister in the eye.

Amelia. Her red eyes glowed with unmistakable amusement as she shook his head back and forth teasingly, tugging at his hair this way and that.

"I thought you'd be here. The floor can't clean itself, y'know. Hurry the fuck up, though; Mother says we have guests at dinner, and you know how she is when she's pissed."

"I already cleaned it." he said softly, trying not to wince. It wasn't his intention to argue, he just wanted to prove that he had already done it, and that there was no need to do it again. The mansion was huge. He didn't have the strength.

Amelia just stared, like he had just said something wrong. Then she turned around, her hold still firm on his hair.

"Mother! Bring Em-"

"N-No! I'll do it again..." he broke in quickly. He wanted to be a good big brother, someone Emil could turn to for safety. How? He couldn't even protect himself from his sisters.

He opened his mouth to say more, but all of a sudden, she let go of him, causing the weak boy to drop to the floor with an audible thump. Lukas did his best to stay quiet. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Instead, he looked down at the floor, not wanting to let Amelia see his fear. Her malicious eyes stayed pinned on him, though, and a smirk formed on her lips. She reached down to ruffle his light hair, almost affectionately.

"Good boy...That's a good boy..."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Melanie snapped her fingers loudly.

"Lukas! Where's my fucking tea?" she yelled. Amelia looked up from the book she wasn't really reading, and decided to join in as well.

"Lukas, where's my coffee?" Her voice was kinder, but in a way, that was worse. False love.

The said person, Lukas, kept his face blank as his hands groped around for the coffee pitcher. Melanie's tea was already on boil, and he couldn't do anything to make it go faster. Yet they would probably still punish him for it. At least they weren't picking on Emil anymore.

Emil had grown up a lot, so much that he was barely recognisable as the wide-eyed child he had been before. His hair had grown messily, and the rest of his body started to fit the size of his head. Unlike Lukas, however, he didn't work; Emil's face was buried in a book twenty-four seven. Most of the time, he spent his days up in the attic, where he shared a room with Lukas. It was pretty cozy up there, despite the heat and chills of the passing seasons. It was probably better if he didn't work. Then no one would hurt him.

Wait. He found it. His hands clasped around the glass jar, and he proceeded to heat it's contents. Amelia probably wouldn't even drink it. She would just pour it on the floor and make him clean it.

"_Lukas. _I don't have all day. Olivia's coming over later, and you still have to curl my hair." He nearly groaned, but quickly stopped the sound from escaping. Olivia. He hated her. She was worse than Amelia in her worst mood. She was worse than Amelia _and_ Melanie in their worst moods. She was just...Bad.

"I'm coming." The kettle sounded. Lukas poured the water into a mug and carefully plopped in a tea bag. He was almost sure his sisters were just stalling him. He still had to curl Melanie's hair, wash Amelia's clothes, wash Mother's clothes, mop the entire house, cook lunch, clean the numerous stain-glass windows- Gods, the list never ended. It had been a long time since any of them threatened Emil, but he knew that they wouldn't hesitate to do so.

"_Lukas!_" Amelia shrieked. He placed both mugs on an ornate tray, and hurriedly ran over to the living room. Big mistake.

He hadn't seen Shinati, Mother's Siamese cat, a devil albeit it's cute appearance. She had been lounging under the doorway, ignorant of the fact that others actually needed to go through it. Lukas had almost stepped on her.

Shinati made an annoyed hissing noise, irritated at the sudden intrusion, and ran through Lukas' legs, causing him to trip and fall to the ground. The coffee mug broke, and it's contents leaked out onto the rug, mixing with the liquidy tea that had also spilled. It looked like milk and mud. Shinati crawled over him to look him in the eye. Lukas looked the cat in the eye. They had an intense staring contest, firing invisible rays of hate at each other, when suddenly, the cat yowled and pounced away. Lukas didn't understand why until he felt the end of a club dig into his back.

"Hey Melanie. Heads or tails?" Amelia towered over the boy, leaning on the handle of her wooden club. Thank god she hadn't been carrying the one that had nails in them. The leaning motion pressed the wood deeper into his back, causing a whimper to escape Lukas' mouth.

_No, shut up! You can't let them hear you..._

"Eh, heads."

The pale boy tried to relax himself, to lessen the pain, but the worst had yet to come.

"S-Sister..."

She either ignored or didn't hear the plea. Using her free hand, Amelia dug through her pocket until she pulled out a small golden coin, which she tossed into the air. It spun up there for sometime, spinning like a golden pinwheel, until gravity pulled it back into Amelia's palm.

_G-God..._ Though his face portrayed no sign of his feelings, terror began to boil inside Lukas. Amelia's devious grin said it all.

"Looks like tails~"

"Whatever." Melanie ignored her sister, and ran her pale fingers through her long blonde hair absentmindedly. Her attention was on Lukas. Amelia made a pouty face for a second, before turning back to the person beneath her, eyes ablaze. This was no annoyed look; It was a look of pure sadism.

"Anyways. You, little _brother,_ and in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"It wasn't my fault. Shina-" Amelia twisted the club, watching it knead it's way into Lukas' back. His mouth opened, as if to let out a cry, but he bit down on his lower lip at the last second.

_Don't break it!_ he thought, despite the fact that they couldn't hear him. His sister scowled at the lack of sound, but she continued.

"_You_ almost stepped on Mother's precious kitty. _You_ are the stupid lil' shit can't even fucking carry something properly. _You_ should've died along with your old man."

"Sister..." Lukas said. What else was there to say? Her words had taken root. If Emil weren't here, he would've ran away a long time ago, with no care for the consequences. But he couldn't leave his little brother here like that. Then he would be a failure as a sibling as well. What would Emil think of him then? Who would protect him from harsh words and harsher beatings?

_I miss Father...He would've protected us..._

Melanie giggled girlishly at the emotion that slipped through Lukas' poker face. It was strange to hear that sound coming from his eldest sister's mouth. She wasn't one to giggle. Shinati found it's way into her lap, and she stroked her silky far as she continued to watch the show.

"Listen up, little brother. Mother will be home by noon. You'd better hurry, if you want to fucking live. Olivia and her father are coming over for the afternoon." There was a brief pause.

"Also...Mother calls for your presence tonight...She needs something from you..." Amelia smirked darkly, and lifted her club, watching her little 'brother' catch his breath.

_I don't want to...It hurts..._

"Take this as a nice punishment." Without further warning, she stomped her foot onto Lukas' hand, producing a definite cracking noise.

"A-Ah! I-It...A..." the words died in his mouth as his hand seemed to catch on fire, but he couldn't shake away the flames.

_Don't hurt me anymore, I...I hate you...I hate you, big sister, _His face seemed to contort as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. He wouldn't cry.

"It what?" Amelia teased, ruffling his messy hair.

Lukas didn't respond. It would heal, right? She didn't crush the bones...Right? She just broke them. Please, don't let them be crushed...That was his right hand, damnit...Instead, he did his best to keep every whimper and cry in as he tried to rise with the dignity he had left. His left arm wasn't half as competent as his right, and the sting became worse and worse the more it lifted off the ground. His support wobbled, and he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, when Amelia used the tip of her club to push him back down. Melanie's laugh could be audibly heard.

"Do you need help, dearest brother?" Amelia's voice gushed with fake sweetness as she slowly bent down and gave her little brother a peck on the lips.

"..." Lukas inched away, trying to keep the pressure off of his wound. He hated the way they touched him like that. They didn't do it often, but it disgusted him.

When he was close enough, he grabbed the cabinet for support, and slowly rose to his wobbly legs. Now that he thought of it, he couldn't remember the last time he had decent food. He ate everyday, sure, but most of it were the leftovers Emil smuggled upstairs after dinner, which sat there until he could finally sleep, four hours later.

Amelia easily followed him, and gave him one of her famous counterfeit grins, her eyes still bold and full of evil.

"G-Go away...Please..."

All she did was move closer, until she came within punching range. Lukas braced himself. Instead, she tilted his head and gave him another full kiss, this time, longer and deeper. He could feel her lips tightly pressed against his, warm and poisonous.

"Mphff, mphfff...!"

_I can't breathe, let g-go of me!_

His dull eyes were wide now, and he tried to push her away with one hand, to no avail. Eventually, his sister cut off the contact, but the awkward tingling was always there. Amelia, once again, stared half-contently at him.

"Mmm...You're not that bad at kissing..." she mumurred, and gave him another, pressing in more and more, until he was pressed against the cabinet, and she, on top of him. The pressure on his hand increased until he could barely bear it any longer. At one point, Amelia began to stroke his broken hand, making sure that each touch was rough and to the point. Every second hurt.

_Stay strong...For Emil..._

His body betrayed him, though, and a small tear escaped.

This time, when she broke contact, Lukas fled, stumbling and almost tripping, before she could try anything else.

* * *

The room was dark, but he could still see the faint outlines of the bed he and Emil shared. Actually, if Emil didn't exist, he doubted that he would even have a bed. A bunch of junk was scattered around; headless mannequins, dusty trunks full of more dust, broken mirrors, and piles of old and worn-out clothes.

Lukas used his left hand to gingerly cradle his right arm, careful not to touch what Amelia had broken.

"Emil?" He was in there, even if he couldn't see him. A short silence followed, with rustling noises ensuing.

"...I heard Amelia yelling downstairs...I thought it would be best to hide..." the younger boy emerged from a pile of torn jackets and scarves, dusting off the the thin layer of dirt that had gathered on him in the short period of time he had been hiding.

Lukas merely nodded and sat down on the bed, looking down. It was hard to dam back his emotions, even at fifteen years.

_Don't cry...Be brave. Don't cry...Be brave..._ It was like a chant, the last thing that kept him from falling over the edge.

"Your hand looks bad." Emil said softly, and he came closer to get a better view. It was obvious; but Lukas knew that his brother meant no offence. His real brother. Not some random person he had been forced to call or 'Sister' or 'Mother'.

"...I could ask Olivia to set it for you. She's good at this stuff, or so I hea-"

"No."

"Why?" They both knew why. Emil sighed tiredly. Sometimes it seemed as he were the elder brother.

"I don't want her t-touching m-me..." Lukas' voice began to crack at the last few words. His lips still felt warm and tingly, and the spot where Amelia had touched him on the face felt warm. They never went too far. It was usually just a kiss or two, sometimes more 'passionate' then others. The worse thing that had ever happened to him was a hand running up and down his thigh.

"Well, someone has to do something." he said.

"Not her."

"Then who?"

"..."

Emil sighed again, and sat down next to his brother, putting a hand on Lukas' left shoulder. For a while, they just stayed like that, brother and brother, keeping each other company. Lukas ignored the constant throb from his injury and tried to think about happier times. They did this a lot, just sitting there and thinking, as time consuming as it was. At one point, Emil broke the silence, as always. If he didn't do that, they could've gone like that forever. Both of them knew that very well, too.

"Oh yeah...I found something up here, while I was looking for a better spot to read...Happy early sixteenth."

Lukas looked up curiously, not reacting when Emil playfully covered his eyes.

"Wait, don't look." The older brother obeyed, and kept his eyes shut. Even the darkness there didn't help take his mind off the tingling and the throbing.

It was his birthday? The last time anyone had even mentioned his birthday was...five years ago. The last time he saw Father, on his birthday. Amelia, Melanie, and Mother had been out travelling, leaving their petite family together, all alone. It was a special occasion, like Father had said. Mother always told him that he was too old for things like cakes and presents, but Father always defended him. This time was no exception. If he thought hard, he could almost see the light coming through the windows, illuminating the dining hall, with a huge mahogany table in the centre. There were only three chairs and three guests at his birthday; himself, Father, and Emil. If he thought really, really hard, he could see Father's light purple eyes, gleaming when he laughed and smiled, Emil's clumsy toddler movements...He couldn't see himself, though. His face was blank like an unfinished statue's, and his clothes were just another dash of random colours...

"Okay, open them now."

In Emil's palm, lay a barrette. One part of Lukas scoffed, _That's for girls!_, but the other half was speechless.

Mother's barrette. Not Mother, the woman who had commanded him to address her like so, but his mother. Alona Bondevik. His mouth hung open like he wanted to catch flies.

Emil's expression softened as he saw his brother's reaction. Slowly, he brushed aside some of Lukas' hair, and he clipped it on. Then he moved back a bit, and smiled gently. Lukas looked at him, touching the barrette with his good hand. It was smooth and coppery, like a regular clip. It also gave him a strange sense of closeness. He owned something that his mother once had. An image came to his mind; Tall, willowy, and pale, with long platnium-blonde hair that went down well past her shoulders. Her eyes closed as she laughed, and she raised a hand to her mouth every time she did so. It was a simple gesture that suggested playfulness, though a certain degree of intensity always remained in her irises, never quite fading. One word came to his mind.

_Mom..._

"It looks nice on you." Emil smiled again, his head leaning towards the side.

Lukas wanted to return the smile, but he couldn't.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Okay, it's me! -I know none of you want to hear me, which is why I'll shut up after this time- Anyways, thanks for the Prussian reviews XD_**

**_And yes, I'm aiming to have no rape in here...However, if there ever will be -highly unlikely-, I probably won't describe it. I suck at that stuff XD_**

**_Sho, the following chapter includes stuff that makes you think it's rape, but it isn't. You have my word. It'll be explained later._**

**_-Tsukuyo_**

* * *

**Chapter 2  
**

_There was a quiet, hesitant knock on the door._

_"Yes?" A low purring sound sounded._

_"...M-Mother..."_

_"Don't be scared, my _dear_..."_

_The door creaked open, and Lukas peeked in. His navy-blue eyes were bleak, but showed no signs of fear._

_Chun-Yan, however, could see the way his chest heaved up and down slowly, as an effort to hold his composure. Her 'son' really was pitiful. It fitted him, though, pitiful, just like Alona. That stupid whore...That stupi- Chun-Yan mentally scolded herself, and sighed quietly. _

_Why couldn't he have grown to look more like Emil? Emil took after the father, Erling._

Her _Erling._

_"Oh, dear, come closer...Mother wants to take a good look at you..." She adjusted her position in her velvet chair, causing Shinati to move along with her. Not a single brown hair was stray, and not a single fold or crease could be seen on her blood-red dress. Chun-Yan dripped authority, and she knew it very well.  
_

_Immediately, Lukas stiffened up, but he obeyed, sliding through the crack in the door. He gasped at the sudden temperature drop, and hugged his bare arms tightly. Chun-Yan smiled slyly. She liked to keep her room cold, especially in the middle of the night. That didn't matter now, though. Instead, she feasted her eyes on her precious Lukas.  
_

_The teenage boy was almost bone-thin, the skinniness of his frail structure revealed by the lack of proper clothing. His hair was a mess, and his hand looked odd, wrapped in a dead-red scarf. It would've been quite interesting to see Alona like this, so weak and helpless. Torturing Lukas, however, almost fulfilled that desire. _

_She snapped her fingers.  
_

_"Come here. What happened to your hand?"_

_There was a visible flinch._

_"I-I...Nothing."_

_"Come...Let your mother see your wound." she cooed, vaguely gesturing at him to move forwards. Chun-Yan watched as her 'son' bowed his head and shakily approached her. If she had to guess, it had something to do with Amelia. Melanie would've gone with something more mental or scattered, instead of using definite, brute force on one small area. Of her two daughters, Melanie was the clever one, while Amelia was the opportunist.  
_

_When he was within reach, she briskly snatched his arm before he could retreat, and examined the cloth. No blood. It was painful, though, as she felt Lukas stiffen up. Without much care, Chun-Yan peeled off the dusty old scarf, and looked at the hand. The boy grew even more tense as she moved mangled fingers roughly to examine their condition. Broken? Clearly. Crushed? Probably not. She let go and twisted her body, looking on her table for what she needed.  
_

_"A-a..."_

_"Hm?"_

_"It's n-nothing..." She frowned, but found the tool she had wanted._

_"You can tell Mother, right?" Chun-Yan held up the object smiling devilishly, and Lukas grimaced, inching back a bit._

_"..." He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was speechless, too. This wasn't the first time, but she didn't do it so much that he had gotten used to the feeling. She waited for him to speak._

_"M-Mother...Please..." he finally managed to get out. His blank face had been replaced by one of pure terror. How she loved and savoured these moments, when they were alone like this.  
_

_"Well, if you really don't want to...You can go back to bed. Yes, of that's what you want, my dear boy..."  
_

_Lukas' eyes widened._

_"R-Really...?" his voice was full of hope._

_"Of course..." she answered slyly._

_"Just make sure to tell Emil that Mother wants to request a favour." Chun-Yan added, twirling the object she held between her long fingers._

_Lukas looked like he had just been slapped._

_"N-No!"_

_"Then get on the bed." There was no light in her tone this time. _

_"..."_

_"Yes...Of course." Lukas' eyes were watery, but he solemnly obeyed, without another word. The boy really loved his brother, didn't he? Just like how Alona had 'loved' her Erling. She needed this, yes, but she would also enjoy this very much.  
_

Later that night, only one sound could be heard throughout the house. Amelia and Melanie were dead asleep, silent in their rooms. Emil was wide awake, cowering under his blankets, tears pouring out of his eyes and down his pale cheeks as he squeezed , his toy bird, silent as well, though the sobs wracked his body. But a certain boy's screams clearly rang in the night, mixing with the coppery tang of blood in the air that had now spread throughout the mansion, like a wind. The screams were sharp and foreign to the little boy. No matter how many times Emil heard the noises and smelled the smells, he could never carry on normally; His brother never told him what went on, either. It was pained Emil to hear Lukas like that, and it disgusted him to think that he couldn't help. All he could really, that was of any use, was to stay silent, and hope.

"L-Lukas...Lukas, stay strong..."

* * *

"And so, you pull the bow li- No, not like that, young prince!"

Mathias smiled apologetically as he watched his music teacher, Roderich, cover his ears for what seemed like the hundredth to muffle the sound of the harsh note.

"Sorry...Teach me how to do it again?"

"Of course, young prince. You hold it like so-" Roderich had began, holding up his own wooden bow to demonstrate, but Mathias was quicker. The blonde man pulled the bow across the strings of the ornate violin, making a sound that sounded like a cat dying. He smiled confidently. He was getting better, wasn't he? Mathias looked at his teacher for approval, though all he did was take a bunch of deep, concentrated breaths.

"That was...good...This time, let me finish talking before you try." Another sharp note followed directly after. Mathias grinned again, thinking that he sounded great. Roderich, however, looked pale. He took several deep breaths before speaking again.

"E-Excuse me for a while, young prince..." Then off he went, scurrying out of the room to who-knows-where.

_The old man probably has to take a piss again._ Mathias snickered softly, and set down his instrument, happy to be rid of it. These 'noble' activities really weren't his thing, even if he did excel at them.

"Wow, just a week and I already play so well...I've gotta show Al..." he said aloud contently. The only reason he had even accepted the idea of violin lessons was because Alfred and Gilbert said that it might've been possible to shatter glass if you played it right. More thoughts ran through his head. Did that mean that Roderich shattered lots of windows? Dad _had _said he was an master violinist... He had to ask Roderich how to do that!

Ten minutes passed, and Mathias sat there, fiddling with his bow as if it were his battle-axe, his favourite weapon. He had named it Axel, as a pun. It wasn't extremely posh, though it was beautiful in it's own way; and it could kill. It could kill. It's simplicity appealed to him more than any other 'noble stuff', and seemed perfect.

He waited for a while longer. At one point, the wind started blowing, making the velvety drapes flutter about, like a butterfly's wings. Mathias raised his nose and took a long deep breath, inhaling as much of the fresh air as he could.

How he wanted to be outside, playing ball with Alfred and Gilbert. Too bad it was going to rain soon, or at least, that's what it looked like from the smell of it. The boy sighed, and lowered his head in frustration. On the bright side, he could crack windows, right?

But music teacher never returned. Mathias' dad did, though. Silius Køhler stormed in, blue eyes flaming like icy fire.

"Mathias!"

"Pop!"

Silius groaned, and rubbed his forehead with a scarred hand.

"How many times have I told you? 'Father'. It's the proper way of things." he chastised, closing his eyes. Mathias scoffed.

"Only girls say that. Al and Gil say 'Pop'."

Actually, when he played amongst the commoners in last year's Christmas festival, he hadn't heard a single 'Father'. The girls said 'Dad' or 'Daddy'. 'Father' was seriously so priss-like; not even those creepy little dainty girls in those

"They're commoners! You're a noble. It's time you started acting like one." Silius growled, eyes flashing again.

He just stared, and put down his bow. Silius was so up-tight and proper. Couldn't he learn to let loose every once in a while? Well, the young noble had a thing or two he could teach his pop as well... Mathias then flashed his trademark grin, the one that all the members of court knew him for.

"Maybe...If you catch me first!" And then he ran past Silius, scarlet cape flapping behind him like a flag in the wind. The king was too stunned to respond. After the first few initial seconds, he found his voice.

"Wh-wh-wh-H...Get back here!" he roared. Too bad Mathias was already too far away to hear.

The boy ran down the hall, making no move to look behind him. It would only slow him down. This chase would be too fun to give up. He didn't stop, even after he elicited the screams of three surprised chambermaids as he nearly knocked them over with a sharp turn.

"Sorry! Pardon me, royalty coming through!" he hollered back at them, grinning, though he didn't bother to watch their reaction.

Somewhere in the background, he heard an angry, 'Stop, Mathias!', probably from his silly dad, who was undoubtedly making chase. The old man was no match for the likes of Mathias Køhler!

_But now...Where to hide...?_ Gil's ideas for hiding spots were okay, but he couldn't keep quiet. Even if you stuffed a turkey into Gilbert's mouth, you couldn't get him to shut up about how awesome his idea was. Al, on the other hand, was not the person you'd depend on for stealth. He'd probably hide some place stupid like Mathias' bedroom, or better yet, the grand throne room. Stealth and Alfred were often bad when used together in an actual sentence. Like they said, if you want it done well, do it yourself!

_Hmmm...Cellar? Too obvious. Stable? Too loud. Forest? Might rain. Behind a library shelf? I'd die from boredom. Pantry? Nah, I'll probably start eating...What about...The tower!_ Perfect. It was usually damp and cold up there, a bit uncomfortable, true, but it wasn't the first place you'd expect to find a prince, even one such as himself. And he could pass the time there, with all the random junk that was scattered around. Old uniforms and costumes, mannequins, and chests full of things more interesting than smelly documents could probably hold his attention for a while.

As he made another sharp turn, scrambling to keep balance, a thought crossed the young prince's mind. Pop always complained about being older and older, and needing a decent heir...He came to an abrupt halt, clutching the sides of a tapestry to catch his breath.

_He wouldn't..._No! _Not again! I already had to do that three times...It never works! Why can't you just give up?_ he mentally yelled, but grinned anyways. At least he could watch his 'magic' work. No matter what the situation, he had always been able to irritate his old man. The joy of seeing Silius' face, red as a beet, was enough to raise his fallen spirits.

There were footsteps behind him, breaking the illusion of Silius' head blowing up. What a shame. Mathias took another deep breath, and went right, forwards, then right again, before the oaken door leading to the attic entered his line of sight. It was just like he remembered it; not too fancy, not too plain, with grooves in the wood and scratches in the steel. There was something he had always liked about the door and the rooms that lay behind it, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

When he got close enough, he slowed his pace, making sure to be quiet. The doorknob was cold. Mathias twisted, and grimaced as a creak sounded, resembling the noise of a yowling moose. Yep, mooses made weird sounds. No time to think about moose sounds, though. Before he tip-toed up the stone stairs, he made sure to close the door tightly, making sure that it was stiff and stubborn.

The staircase was dark, and there was a sound of dripping water somewhere. They didn't frighten him, of course. He was the bravest person there was.

Yet something seemed out of place. One step at a time, he felt around in the darkness, making sure to have stepped on solid rock before making his next move. There was nothing to hold on to; It was like that old fable. He had to go slow and steady. Mathias couldn't recall what the moral had been, but it had been something along the lines of 'Slow and steady wins the race if your enemy is a lazy person'. Or was it... 'Slow and steady doesn't always win the race, but don't take a nap'?

All of a sudden, there was a chomping noise. Mathias stiffened. Why wasn't Axel with him? He was totally going to miss out on this chance to kill a monst-

"You want a cookie?" The young prince whipped around, flailing wildly at whatever the cookie-eating-monster wanted. He might've made contact, though he wasn't sure.

But it wasn't a monster. It was Ivan Braginski, his guardian. Mathias let out a bunch of stale air, breathing normally again. He wasn't sure how Ivan had crept up on him like that. It was so weird.

"Uhh...No thanks, Ivan. But ho- why were you following me?" he whispered, feeling a bit creeped out. Ivan smiled gently.

"I wasn't following. I was waiting. Actually, I was here for long time, and you ran past me." Something about Ivan's smile suggested kindness, though there was something else entirely that gave one the impression that the kindness could evaporate in a split second.

"...Don't rat me out?" Ivan adjusted his scarf, rubbing the material against his pale cheek before replying.

"That is not fun. The king, though, wanted me to tell you something. So I waited here for you to come. I thought you would come. It's good hiding spot, da?"

Mathias hadn't know that Ivan was good at hide-and-seek. He was going to challenge him one of these days, and beat him to a pulp. Exactly what he would do tomorrow, perhaps.

"What did Pop have to say that was so important?" Mathias yawned, sitting down on a step. For a minute, he had the weird feeling of not being able to see under him, due to the darkness, and felt that he was sitting on nothing. It passed eventually, though.

"Another marriage scam. You will be having dinner with a few families, I believe, all with noble girls..." Ivan started, pulling out another cookie from his pocket before continuing.

"I believe that tomorrow night, you must dine with...The Kirkland family? I cannot remember, but I think that is it." Mathias felt like he had been slapped. Actually, he had, since he had just slapped himself.

"No kidding?" he asked.

"Nyet, no kidding."

Mathias facepalmed, not sure what he wanted to make of this. Just like he predicted. _Marriage._ He didn't want to be married to a random girl he barely knew, probably much less liked. So he decided to make the best of his situation, and do what he could.

"Okay...Just gimme a cookie."


End file.
